the stories of one southern, class-straddling lawyer and her death row clients

The Ripples of Trauma from Sandy Hook

Hearing the news about the Sandy Hook Elementary School massacre last Friday triggered deep emotional pain across America and the world, even though few of us knew anyone close to those murdered. Parents with young children held them tighter. Children said prayers for the children lost. In a darker place, many who have experienced loss through gun violence began to re-live their own trauma.

The ripple effects of senseless violence are long and deep. Psychological trauma hits the hardest those caught in the immediate splash – the witnesses, the survivors (those closest to the event and the victim), and the perpetrator (assuming he or she lives). The trauma spreads to friends of the survivors and of the perpetrator and to those who hear details about the killing. It also spreads over time to those who later get to know the survivors and the perpetrator.

I have never had a loved one lost to gun violence or even murder, though my husband’s sister was murdered long before I knew him. But as a lawyer, I have represented and have grown close to clients who have killed and then been killed by state execution. I have heard things no one should hear and have seen things that no one should see. The psychological trauma has taken its toll.

One of the consequences of psychological trauma is that its dysfunctions can re-emerge at any time, overwhelming your mental functioning. You never know when the symptoms will be triggered.

I was running errands on Friday, when I first heard about a shooting at an elementary school. Instinctively I knew it best to wait until I got home to learn more. When I did, an overwhelming sadness enveloped me, and it has not lifted. Thoughts of one of my executed clients, Steve McHone, and his family suddenly crowded my mind. I write in hopes of stopping the flood.

Steve’s story is similar to Adam Lanza’s story though certainly different in magnitude. Steve was the same age of Adam when he committed his crimes; he had just turned 20. In the middle of the night in the idyllic town of Mount Airy, NC, Steve shot and killed his mother in their backyard and his step-father in the kitchen, before he was stopped by his half-brother.

Steve suffered from mental illnesses, which he had self-medicated with alcohol and drugs since the age of 12. Steve had violent outbursts, once chasing his mother, Mildred, around the kitchen with a knife. Mildred tried several times to get him psychological help, but the actual treatment he received was minimal.

On June 2nd, 1990, the perfect storm came together – alcohol, severe depression, conflict and guns. Steve went to a party, got drunk, and got a gun from his family camper. He fought with friends at the party but nothing came of it. By the time he got home after midnight, Steve was distraught, threatening suicide. He fought with his parents and was sent to his room to sleep it off.

In his basement room, Steve drank more and called his AA sponsor for help. The sponsor did not come. Steve went into the backyard with his pistol, most likely with the intent to kill himself. Mildred was concerned about her son and made her way to the backyard too, with thoughts of removing the gun from the family camper, unaware of the fact that Steve already had it in his grips.

No one knows the details of the interaction of mother and son that night, but it ended with Steve shooting his mother. Steve’s step-father, Wesley, ran to the scene, disarmed Steve and dragged him into the kitchen. Wesley left Steve alone long enough for Steve to run to the bedroom and get a shotgun kept in the corner.

By this time Steve’s half-brother, Junior, was present. Steve shot at Junior, but Wesley intervened and was shot dead. Steve was subdued by Junior, who Steve begged to kill him. Impressively, Junior, with both his parents dead, did not oblige.

The State was less restrained. Steve was executed by the State of North Carolina on November 11, 2005, at the age of 35, fifteen years after his crimes. I witnessed his pre-meditated killing. I also witnessed the trauma suffered by three of his four siblings who had forgiven Steve and who had begged the Governor in vain to stop the execution. So, goes the circle of violence and the traumatization.

I bristle when I hear people suggest that more guns in the home and in the schools are the answer to our country’s problem of violence. I also bristle when I hear people suggest that we must arm ourselves to protect us from criminals. I have met these criminals and they are us. They are our brothers, our husbands, and our sons. They are also our friends and our neighbors.

It is easy to be overwhelmed by the pain and grief caused by Adam Lanza, but we must not become paralyzed. We all have much work to do in our own backyards: to become more knowledgeable and understanding about mental illness, to become more perceptive of those in psychological distress, and for all our sakes, to remove guns from easy reach of those in distress.

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1 thought on “The Ripples of Trauma from Sandy Hook”

Cindy,
Thank you for your thoughtful comments. Susan and I were in the air on our way back to NYC (to visit our son and soon to be daughter-in-law) from Turkey when this happened and only learned of it when he picked us up at JFK. Having just spoken at a UNICEF International Symposium on the Rights of Children, this terrible tragedy certainly gave us a whole new understanding of what we had just been considering. As a former hunter I have some understanding of the love of guns, but since my early 20’s have been adamantly opposed to the possession of guns by anyone. Having also defended many a person charged with capital murder, I have seen time and time again the mayhem these weapons cause to everyone touched by the unnecessary death of a loved one. At the ripe age of 71 I see no way to stop this problem other than the banning and destruction of all guns.
Jim Gronquist